


Who Will Love a Little Sparrow

by Victorionious



Series: V's Round 7 H/C Bingo [2]
Category: Charmed (TV)
Genre: Cliffhangers, Demons, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Hurt No Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 20:37:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7728889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Victorionious/pseuds/Victorionious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PENTHOS DEMON - This unusual demon feasts not on blood or flesh, but the very emotion one has for their kith and kin. They inflict pain upon their victims and form a psychic link with all who care for them, feeding on the concern and torment their loved ones feel for their hurt, then flee, leaving their victim to die and be found by those who felt their pain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Will Love a Little Sparrow

**Author's Note:**

> My entry for the prompt "Hostages" for H/C Bingo Round 7! It's technically a bit closer to kidnapping but. Whatever he's being kept for leverage it Works.
> 
> I kinda cut this off before there was any resolution, but I do have some rough plans of continuing it. It will probably be a while, though, so don't hold your breath. If you're familiar with my consistency, you'll probably know what to expect.

> _Who will love a little Sparrow_
> 
> _Who's traveled far and cries for rest?_
> 
> -“Sparrow,” Simon and Garfunkel

 

Chris was slammed into the wall with a noise that echoed, and he let out a breathless laugh. This section of the Underworld was quiet, dark, and cold, almost peaceful if you had seen the places he’d seen. He’d been here many times with minimal ado, but already he could tell that this was not going to be one of those times, and yet another place in the world was about to be ruined for him.

He fell to his knees after a sharp boot slammed into his stomach, any breath still in him long-since departed. He gasped for air, and felt a rough, dirty hand grab his face none-too-gently, forcing him to look at the demon that had swiped him from just outside the manor.

“Son,” he said with relish, “Friend. Lover. _Brother_. Oh, this is going to be _good_.”

The realization lanced through Chris like a darklighter arrow, and with it came not horror but _glee_. He giggled, breathlessly, giddily, until the Penthos demon threw him back to the ground, where he curled into a ball around his wounded stomach, laughing further even though every movement felt like being stabbed.

“What’s so funny? Don’t you realize what’s about to happen to you?” the demon hissed.

Chris’s eyes were watering as he looked back up at the demon with a shaky grin. “You’re a demon who feeds off of suffering created by hurting people who are loved,” he said, “And you chose _me._ ” The thought sent him into another fit of giggles, and he was gasping by the time the demon pulled him back to his feet with a hand around his neck.

“Why is _that_ funny?”

Chris’s smile didn’t waver. “Everyone who loves me is long since dead, and the few people who know of my existence wish _I_ was dead. You’re _fucked_.” Chris spat in the demon’s face as punctuation, and got punched in the teeth for his troubles.

The demon let Chris fall to the ground again, and leaned against the wall as he studied him. “Everyone is loved,” the demon said, “By someone. It’s why my kind has survived so long. Nobody is completely alone, no matter how alone they feel.”

Chris panted against the dirt, and muttered, “And I’m sure you’ve never targeted someone from a dystopian future.” He stared at the demon out of the corner of his eye as he pushed himself up on his elbows and knees. “My _brother_ killed everyone. He would’ve killed me. And as it is, he’s a child now. Kill me if you want, but it will do you absolutely no good. No one gives a fuck.” The demon stamped a boot down on his back, pushing him back into the ground.

“But _you_ care,” the demon said with some interest as he applied more pressure. Chris let out a pained groan. “How are you so certain, whitelighter?”

Chris let out a hiss of pain as the demon continued his actions, but answered anyway. “No one knows me. Even my charges don’t know who I am. I’m nothing. I’m no one. Even _my own fucking father_ -“ There was a crack from inside him, and Chris screamed.

“Then tell me, _Christopher_ ,” the demon sing-songed, “Why your pain is so _delicious_?”

Chris was past responding, breath coming in little gasps as his ribcage creaked. The demon lifted its boot, satisfied, and pulled out a sharpened athame, examining it in the light. “You see,” he said, testing the point on this finger and smiling as it drew a bead of blood, “as I hurt you, everyone who loves you gets a signal. They might not know why, but their concern for you is reacting as if they were in the room with us, seeing this firsthand. It gives me just enough time to finish you off before they come looking, then, _oh_ , the best part – when they find your broken body, and all that pain and grief rushes straight into me. _God_ ,” the demon almost purred, kneeling next to Chris, and painting a stripe of red across his cheek with just the tip of the blade, “There’s nothing better in this world.”

The demon flicked his hand, and Chris was thrown across the room yet again, wincing as he made impact with the wall once again. The world was blurring, and no matter how hard he gasped he felt like he wasn’t getting enough air. He could barely move, and then there was pressure against his neck, the demon making a choking gesture from across the room. It was far too familiar, and his chest ached in a way that had nothing to do with his injuries.

“Your brother is frantic,” the demon enlightened, “’Why is his shield down?’ he’s wondering, ‘Will he ever forgive me?’ ‘Will he ever get the chance?’ ‘I have to save him but I don’t know when he is, let alone where!’” Chris let out a choked gasp of air, and the demon barely let him get another in before his telekinetic grip tightening. “Your father has felt this before, he knows what’s happening. An elder? My, my, you _are_ interesting, aren’t you?” The demon licked the blood off his own finger as he approached, groaning just a little. “Not my ordinary mark by far.”

Chris’s vision blackened at the corners, as his oxygen deprived brain finally gave in. The last thing he saw was the demon’s face as he taunted him with glee, the glint of a dagger rising high above his head.

Then, a new spike of pain, and everything went mercifully black.

XX

When he awoke, Chris was first surprised that he’d in fact woken up alive, that his heart was still beating in his chest, that he felt warm and solid, not the particular ethereality of spirits and ghosts that he’d become all too familiar with over the years.

The second thing he was surprised by were those eyes, oh-so-very like his own, brighter than their father’s, that should not be in this time, in that face, in any face but the toddler that didn’t yet have the power to heal him as his older brother did.

“How-“ Chris croaked, but his brother gave him a smile.

“I think the question you should be asking is ‘ _why?’._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry


End file.
